


Nephilim?

by Escritora2Aliasfox



Series: winged children [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-29 22:37:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10146161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Escritora2Aliasfox/pseuds/Escritora2Aliasfox
Summary: Crowley finds out something scary enough to run away and hide for nearly one year...no chance to sleep away this one.





	

Crowley took all of his houseplants out in the street and abandoned them there.  
He had no time to think of a better way to deal with them, nor a worse one, so he just left them where they would have one chance.

Walking back to his flat, someone stood on his way, pretending modals, while moving by curiosity.

“Excuse me” said the assistant of the last floor “can I ask you, miss…”  
“Crowley”  
“Oh, Miss Crowley, so you are his sister?”  
“…yeah”  
“I should have guessed by the familiar resemblance. I trust you know… ehm, those are his plants”  
“Sure. Well, not anymore…”  
“Pardon?”  
“Eh, He, my brother, is not coming back”  
“Oh, hope he is all right. Did he have some accident of some kind…?”  
“Yeah, kind of”

Crowley went back into his flat without another word and closed with a slam.  
Well, it was she now. Had been for a while.  
He (she, that is) just woke up one morning with a dizzy head and a female body, after an intense dream.

She just took it with a smile, tributing it to her subconscient, and her conscient desire to try new things in her relationship with certain angel, which had become more intense, and physical since the nonapocalypse.

But not long after she had started feeling funny, with distaste for things she used to enjoy like tobacco and wine…  
And started to worry.

One simple test confirmed hi… er, her fear.

She was pregnant. 

She had breathed deeply, fixed her shirt to make it more fitting, and left to pay the angel a visit.  
Maybe she hadn’t planned on telling him right away, just testing the waters for the big news…

But then, when the angel made her wait at the bookshop, she was glancing at the books and remembered something.  
They did speak of angel crossbreds at one point. …oh, my.

When Aziraphale found her, she was looking through the pages of one version of the book of Enoch. He could have swear she was startled and kind of upset, (scared, maybe?) when he came to her.  
She shrugged it of nervously, saying he was making her wait too much and she had taken the most dreadful piece she could find as entertainment.

Aziraphale had perhaps seen the book and was about to mention ineffability, but she didn’t want to hear it. Could not. No.  
So she jumped to his neck, searching for any way of distraction.  
The angel passed from surprise, to tenderness and kissed her.   
Crowley just went with it.

Aziraphale noted that this session of sex was kind of rushed, that she seemed not to be enjoying too much, and he asked.

“Yes. I just… I am leaving”  
“Already? You just got here”  
“No. Im leaving the city. The country, actually. I got… a great chance of a job and can’t miss it. Just… yeah. Just wanted to say bye”  
“Oh. When are you coming back?”  
“Oh… in a few months”  
“Oh, my. Did Hell get in contact with you? What did they say?”

She had to build up her excuse, like a friend of her was planning something in America and she wanted to participate just in case to look good on Hell’s books.  
No angels allowed.

Then she got rid of her plants, put the Bentley to good care, and left for Paris.  
Europe looked somehow better to hide.

…

She kept thinking of the pregnancy and the angel. Ok, so heaven wouldn’t approve. But Aziraphale?  
He was pretty human, he loved her, he had gone against Heaven’s orders before…

She would have time to think of that. Right now, safety was priority.  
Heck, she didn’t know if she wanted to have the baby at all!

So she arrived there, got a nice, comfortable place with enough commodities, (wouldn’t trust a hotel in her condition) And expended a few days thinking of nothing, getting to know her new surroundings, and start a simple routine.

Soon, she started missing the angel. It didn’t help that many men on the street would try to seduce her.  
Thou it gave her many chances to continue her job, none could compare to her angel, and soon doubt and stress started creeping to her mind.  
She missed her angel. She kept remembering how kind he was. Maybe she should just tell him… but the Nephilim case! There was just no way, the angel was still loyal to heaven…

One night, thou, she saw him.

She woke up and he was there. Siting at the feet of her bed. Watching over her with such tenderness in his eyes.  
He knew.

“Aziraphale! …how did you…?”  
“Shh. Its ok. Lay back”  
“Im sorry, I just… I love you”  
“I love you too”  
“…” she smiled, and he caressed her womb.  
“Why did you try to scape?”  
“I was afraid… uh?”

Suddenly, she was surrounded by angels. They looked like religious men, and held her down by force.

“wait! Wait…Azir…!”  
“Shh, sh is ok, just relax… it will be one moment”  
“But Zira…!!”  
“It will be over in one moment”

Aziraphale kept looking at her with tenderness and a shoothing voice, but one of the men came to her with a twisted, slim, long metal instrument.  
One of those used in convents to make sure no one knew when a sister got pregnant…

“No! No!! Aziraphale!”

Crowley struggled but was not strong enough. The men forced her to open her legs and the one with the metal started hurting her badly.

She shouted for help, and for them to stop, but thou the pain was bad, the most terrifying thing that was happening was that they were stinguising the life within her, breaking it. Tearing it apart. By force. All under the calm eyes of her angel…

Suddenly she woke up.

She was alone, on her room, and still pregnant. Her womb was not as big as in the nightmare, still several months for delivery to come, and Aziraphale was very far away. And didn’t know. …and it had to stay that way.

Crowley caressed the small bump on her abdomen with an absent mind, coming to a sudden realization:  
She feared for the life of her child.

…

There are a few recurrent dreams which are quite common for pregnant women.   
If you read a recompilation, you can come across funny ones, like giving birth to a grown person, cute ones, like delivering puppies or kittens, and even creepy ones, like shooting babies out like a canon.

Crowley was not an exception, given her case.

She had recurrent dreams and nightmares regarding her state and her worries…  
Unfortunately, this included the nightmares.  
That nightmare. The one where she was held down by angels dressed like religious people, and forced to abort under the calm glance of her lover.

She begged, offered deals, shouted and cried and damned until her throat hurt, said she hated him… but made no difference.

There was two versions of that dream: in the most recent one, she was gibing birth (sometimes, by cesarean) and could hear the baby crying healthy. While one of the nurses was attending her, someone else took the baby to a corner of the room.

And she would ask to see it, and demand to hold it, and cry for them to stop and listen, but Aziraphale would stay at the feet of the bed, calm, telling her to rest, for it was all over… And the baby’s cry would come to an abrupt stop.

In real life, with 6 months of pregnancy, her womb was already obvious, but still left a long wait ahead. She sighed. She didn’t mind the worried, pitiful or even disapproving looks of her neighbors. Her situation was not that of any other single pregnant woman.

She was conscient that she had been delaying the choice of abortion with the excuse of doing it later, and the unconscient wish to avoid it (or not so unconscient) she was specially worried for her dreams.

Were they premonitions? Warnings from above? Lies from below? Even if they were just simple, stupid dreams, they were not very far from reality.

Even if Aziraphale decided to care for her and/or the child, anyone else who would find out was a potential threat.  
For the three of them.

It was curious to think of the angel as good or even neutral to her. True he knew nothing of this, but she ha spent months watching him… watch. So to say.  
And demons are, naturally, paranoid.

There was one moment when, (lets blame the hormones and the stress) got the best of her.

“I will end this fast and painless as soon as I have a chance” she decided. “Am I not a demon? Isn’t the sacrifice of an innocent life the best way to praise Satan? Wouldn’t it be a merciful end and save me a lot of trouble?” She resolved.

After all, she had had the temptation of throwing away the baby antichrist when he had first been given to her.

Also, she was growing very worried, as a demon, for the crossed feelings she got every time she felt ah… um, what they call a kick.

This baby kicked so much she may as well say it was dancing in there.  
Somehow, it recalled her so much of Aziraphale…

But then, nearly as soon as she made such decision, something happened.

By the time she was giving birth she was bleeding of the thoroughly bite on her lips.  
The delivery was short, for human standards and still so painful. She definitely regretted her little work with the apple during it.  
Suddenly, with a last cry of pain it was over: no more pain, no more pressure. The contractions over. She just laid back against the mattress (she made sure to be alone for the occasion, closed doors and curtains, not even electric devices around) but her peace was interrupted by a new cry: a baby’s one.

It came from between her legs, reminding her that now suddenly she was not alone.  
She took a moment to sigh and rest her eyes, and then, slowly, incorporated.  
Before even looking at the baby, she took the large knife that had been neatly placed in the nightstand and the very first arrival of contractions, last month.

She wanted to be sure of her task when she saw the baby’s face.  
Then, slowly, she looked at it.  
And my, it was small. Not as dirty as she expected, and well, like any other baby, really.

It cried to o one in particular, demanding attention and comfort. Warmth. And Crowley raised the knife… but then though.

‘Well, I had decided to kill it out of mercy. So better give the poor thing some reassurance before… well’

And refusing to acknowledge it was her maternal instinct speaking, she picked up the baby, covered it in the sheets, and tried to milk it.

‘maybe I could poison it with calmants, so it just goes to sleep and never wakes u…’

But when she looked at its face, the infant had open its eyes:  
Deep, stormy blue. Like it’s father’s.

The sole sight sent a terrifying chill up her spine, and a strangled gasp out her lungs. She could not…!  
She then knew she had to do it right away, for this was tormenting her to no clear end.  
She rised the knife, and those nonunderstanding blue orbs just kept staring in absolute innocence. She had to cover them clumsily with the trembling hand which held the poor creature…

And she woke up. Still on her sixth month. This new dream would be recurrent too?

Maybe it was her subconscient again, reminding her of the possibilities she didn’t take into account:  
What if she loved it? She couldn’t control that. It would be like killing Aziraphale. Could she do that?

“I will have to” She repeated to herself “as much as i love it, it is for the best, for everyone… even you”

And with that though, silently, she laid a hand on it again. It was like talking to it. Saying sorry.  
She contampled the possibility of not sleeping for a long while (so to say, at all; ‘till long after pregnancy was over) but… yeah. She was afraid it wouldn’t be good for the baby.  
A small feeling started creeping to the back of her head. Like she knew she wouldn’t do it. But she summoned all her will to refuse it.

…

Seventh month. Se hated and feared and loved and missed very, very much Aziraphale. The little one inside her kept dancing each day stronger, and she couldn’t help but to smile proudly.  
She also spoke mindlessly, when distracted, like she did with the plants, but without the purpose of threat.

The small bastard (as she called it quite ofthen, considering it such) didn’t understand and kept growing, dancing without a care.  
She was eating a fucking burger, (yes, a burger) while scowling the fetus for causing it, when a familiar, warm feeling invade her.

At first she didn’t know what it was, but it felt like something she missed. Like a good wine, or a cigarette, with nice company…  
Aziraphale.

She shifted. Now it was coming closer. How did he find her? Why? Did he know? Could she still scape?  
She got up and run to the door. She had to flee before he got in…  
Blame the hormones, or the time off practice, but she miscalculated. He was at the hall.  
Staring at her.

And there they stood, looking at each other. A few meters in between.

Her pregnancy was obvious. Maybe Aziraphale would be oblivious enough to not notice…?  
If he came closer, he would notice without a doubt.  
That is why, when he stepped forwards, she instinctly walked backwards, keeping the distance.  
He noticed.

“Crowley? …what are you… doing… here?” Aziraphale was seeing her, but he was still trying to decide if it was what it looked like, and what exactly did it look like.  
He attempted to walk closer. She was going to say something, but didn’t. anything she said would make it obvious.

But wasn’t it obvious already? 

In the time she took to think, Aziraphale had come very close.  
Dangerously close.   
She noticed too late. She looked up, and he was looking between her… and her huge, obvious womb.  
(stopping there quite longer)  
He was trying to speak, “I… was… tried to reach you but… letters… What…? You…”

He raised one hand towards her, (to her womb) and something quite animal like snapped in her.  
She jumped backwards, lowering a bit, a serpent like snarl towards the angel. She even clawed at his hand.  
It was so fast, not even she expected it.

But it was done. Aziraphale looked at her shocked, one hand holding the injured one, and she had started it.  
After a couple more seconds of hesitation, she run into her flat, and locked the door.  
Instantly Aziraphale was hitting it, asking to get in, but she had other plans.

She had to flee.

She looked around. There was no other way out, not even fire stairs. She would have to flee. Literally.

And so she hoped it wouldn’t make much of a difference, and opened the widest window.  
“this is quite childish, honestly!” Aziraphale’s voice sounded still on the other side of the door, when she was already jumping.

It was certainly harder to fly, with so much extra weight, and the effort accusing her body, but she carried on, and flew, and flew, as far as she could, in a dimension she hoped the angel would take time to glance once he got across the window…

Beneath her, the humans who would happen to see it were prome to dismiss whatever they couldn’t understand.  
Soon she saw a wide park on the distance. It looked nice… familiar. She flew towards it and remembered the issue of landing.

She lowered as carefully as she could and made sure to fall onto the water, which made the collision much easier.  
The lake was small and covered only up to the waist. It had a miny island for the ducks in the center. Suddenly, it was a bit wider and had enough trees and bushes for her to feel a bit nested.

The cold water didn’t bother her. There was so much more to worry for in her head.  
Or nothing, actually. Just shock.

Aziraphale knew.  
Aziraphale knew.  
Aziraphale was here.

There where steps coming through the bushes. She was just trembling now. In fetal position, her wings shielding her from the world. After a pause, she felt a gentle pat in her wing.

She took her time, looking up. He had his wings out. Un preened, white and round-like, with brownish shades. They looked a lot like those of an owl. G- Manchester. She had missed him so much. She was afraid, but it was nice to see him again. It was odd, to be afraid, and at the time happy to have him close.

“why didn’t you tell me?” he said.  
‘why did you try to scape…’ she remembered.  
“how did you find me?” she growled at him. it was a stupid question. Aziraphale was very intelligent, and was an angel. He explained that, after a long while waiting, he had started writing, and calling… and when she didn’t answer…  
And she didn’t listen.

“I missed you” he said. ‘I missed you too’ she wanted to say, but didn’t.  
“I hate this” there was poison in her voice. “I hate it so much. I hate it all. I hate you and this and what… the baby! …and I hate what it makes me feel”

She remembered Aziraphale saying she, as a demon could not understand things like love… in that same moment, Aziraphale was remembering too, and he was regretting.

“I hate feeling weak. Trapped. Helpless”  
“but you are not” Aziraphale kneeled in front of her, bushes, mud and the droppings of the ducks spoiling his horrible, beloved trousers. “I am here. with you. We can, can…” he gestured to her, to the stinky place, to the situation “…think of something” she nodded.

“I am nearly eight months into a pregnancy which is a blasphemy. FUCK. YOU. ”

Aziraphale tried to think of something, but there was really nothing to add.

They just stood there. For a long while. He wanted to come closer, but she would claw at him.  
Then, it go colder, and after a long hesitation, she just got up and left.  
Se threw daggers at him for following her from a safe distance, specially every time he tried to get closer to help her.  
She flew with difficulty, and she nearly broke something when landing, and she had trouble to get out her clothes and clean the floor… but she did alone because he wasn’t touching her. No. If he tried she would fight. As hard as it takes. And he sensed it.

“you are not sleeping?” he asked. She just looked at him bad.  
“I mean, specially in your state…”  
“I have nightmares” ‘don’t tell him! don’t! it will only…!’ “with what you and your kind does to us. Quite often. In several different ways. And it is very real” 

Aziraphale looked like he had stepped on the poison in her words barefoot. Broken glasses of it.

“is that what you expect from me? that’s why you…”   
‘tried to scape’   
“what else can I expect? Remember the Nephilim? This is worst!”  
“it is my child to!” she looked like she didn’t understand. “I…I just found out. You should have… I should have been here! I should have had more time to… I love you. I don’t know if you understand…”  
“DON’T YOU DARE!”  
“it is MY baby too!! I deserved the chance to…”

And there ended this argument. There were no more words. Couldn’t find them.

Crowley was exhausted next day. She hadn’t sleep, and Aziraphale was out and she sat in front of the TV and she knew she was feeling numb, and she should stay awake, but she wasn’t falling asleep…

She woke up when Aziraphale put a blanket over her. She nearly jumped out of her seat.  
“you should sleep in the bed, not here”

He had brought a lot of shopping. Food, mostly, but also a couple of books…  
Parenting books. Crowley couldn’t believe it, so she just didn’t even take the shit it takes to comment.

Still, Aziraphale insisted in cooking a couple of things, which, apparently were good for the pregnancy.

She did eat it. That must be noted: she ate even while having the paranoia that it would be poisonous.

She tried to wave away the angel… but he didn’t leave. He made himself a nice place in the couch and didn’t move.  
He was bringing healthy food or stuff for babys, or cooking or reading those dreadfull books.  
After the phase of denial, Crowley grew use to the situation and just though of a solution.

…

“Aziraphale… you did want to help, didn’t you?”  
“oh, yes”  
“Well I need watermelon”  
“…”  
“and pineapple. …and strawberries. Lots of them”  
“alright…”  
“and see if you can find me that book…The Sick Rose”  
“that one!?”  
“yes”  
“are you sure?”  
“I Need it”

Both looked at each other. She feared he would be smelling his intentions, but she just held he gaze, and he eventually said “oh, you mean right now!”  
“yes dear right away please”  
“but, where do I find at this time…”  
“PLEASE I NEED THEM AS FAST AS YOU CAN ACOMPLISH, if you can’t, I can go myself…”  
“no! no, its ok, really!”

And Aziraphale barely had time to put on his coat before running out.   
Well. That was easy wasn’t it?

She collapsed in the couch, breathing deeply. She could feel the contractions coming back.  
Her water had broken less than twenty minutes ago. She had saved the panic for later while getting rid of the angel.

Next part of the plan: call a taxi.  
…and go to a random dirty hotel nearby.  
She avoided payment with a though and limped to the room while crouching over with the pain, and reminding herself that it would take hours. Her baby (and all of her guts, due to the pain) would not drop on the stairs.

She closed all of the curtains, and locked the door, after kicking out the TV and every piece of electronic stuff.  
Then she carefully lied on the bed, and started breathing…and pushing.

One hour later, she was already sweating and in deep pain, but it didn’t seem anywhere closer to the end…  
And there was a banging in the door. And shouts.  
As she was busy, she couldn’t stop the police breaking through the door, and interrupting the delivery.

Bullocks. She hadn’t though of the clients next door calling the police due to her screams.

 

But a demon has resources*, and with one stare, the cop in the front dropped the walkie talkie and kneeled at the feet of the bed, taking off his gloves and his jacket, ready to do his best.  
Crowley didn’t worry for getting an infection, because those are things that happen to other people.

It took a few hours** but finally, she felt an odd relieve, and she could drop her head to rest against the pillows.  
She distantly heard the man kneeling between her legs saying   
‘’C...c'est une belle petite fille. ...Félicitations madame’’***

…and fuck that. She didn’t want to know that. She didn’t need to know. …shit.

Then, the sound of newborn screams. Her baby’s new lungs where being filled with air for the first time. It was quite bothering, but somehow not in a bad way… so she rose a bit again, to pick her child, and the policeman handed her over. She was so small and dirty, and weakly trashed around her limbs… she did seem healthy.  
(no horns, nor scales either. Not even wings…) Crowley looked at the man, and he automatically didn’t say another word. He picked up his things, and hurried his partners away, and even closed the door behind him. He would also remember to call whoever had been informed to tell them it all was solved and there was no need to keep any possible records…

Crowley panicked when she felt more contractions, but it was just the placenta.

…

Later that night, she arrived home, alone. No baby, no angel anywhere to be seen. She locked her in her room, and slept peacefully. For the first time in a long while.

She woke up, and could listen pacing, and a murmur in the other side.  
…how to tell Aziraphale? Well, maybe she should just tell him and flee to another country and sleep the whole thing away for another century… or a few decades, maybe…?

The sight in the other side of the door, broke her schemes.

Aziraphale paced the floor, while holding the baby in one arm, and telling her whatevers, as he fed her with a baby bottle. 

“… what…”  
He stopped pacing, and looked at her.  
“oh, hello, dear…”  
“what! …how… how dare you!?”

Aziraphale put apart the baby bottle, and helped the little creature to burp.

“please, calm down…”  
“how dare you… get away from her!”  
“honestly…”  
“DON’T YOU…!”  
“HOW COULD YOU”

Aziraphale snapped back. Crowley’s wings snapped out. Aziraphale hadn’t spoken like this for so long.

“you abandoned her!”  
“it was for the best. Why can’t you leave me be?”

The baby was crying, but Aziraphale, though holding her safely, ignored her. 

“she is my baby too. You shouldn’t… I could denounce you!”  
“we are not humans! This is different!”  
“she is not human! You abandoned my baby, in an alien world!”  
“SHE IS NOT YOURS! YOU WERE NOT THERE! YOU…YOU…!”  
“I SHOULD HABE BEEN HERE! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!?”

Crowley wanted to say something like ‘I’m a demon, ok?’ or ‘your side scared me’ but her baby’s cries where distracting her. Aziraphale took the space of silence to turn to the infant on his arms, and tried to shush the thing, but Crowley felt a rush of need, and went forward, extending her arms.

She stopped in shock to Aziraphale’s reaction: He backed up, his wings out (when did he poke them out?) he was standing in a scared, protective pose.

Crowley had a dejabu, from the times before the arrangement. She extended her arms.

“give her to me”

Aziraphale didn’t move. She slowly moved forward and carefully took the crying baby from him. He didn’t resist.   
Crowley, trembling sat at the couch, and held her baby. She didn’t register the whispers she said to calm her down.  
She registered, however, Aziraphale walking to stand behind her.

…

He pretended normality and peace, and he did pretty well, but he didn’t lift his guard again. If he ever left her alone, whatever she did, she knew he knew, and vice versa. She didn’t leave her alone with the baby again.

He managed to sneak her from her from time to time, and made good use of those precious moments: bonding parental time, he called it. He would hold the kid, feed or clean her, and coo at her and tell her stories.

Crowley would protectively take her from him as soon as she could, and scold him for ever mentioning any religious theme. And, when the baby was put aside, they would argue.  
Sometimes they would argue in silent.

“LEAVE. LEAVE US. GO AWAY. DON’T COME BACK. DON’T COME CLOSER…” would she say with everything she got.  
And he would not reply, but his deep eyes would surely shout back and firmly “NO.”

And this situation would go on and come back, between conversations that pretended to be casual, like:

“we should really start picking names… maybe nothing religious, but, what about something more personal, like… Eden? That’s where we met”  
“she’s not gonna need a name. if she gets to have parents then they may name her”  
“…so, you didn’t think of any?”  
“…”****

 

Once, Crowley had another dream. But this was not a realistic pregnancy related nightmare like before: she dreamt that they where sitting at Aziraphale’s table in his shop, having a nice chat over wine. Like when before.

…

And so, one night, Crowley was sleeping, locked away in her room with the baby, while Aziraphale was reading in the couch.  
She knew he wouldn’t disturb her now. So it really felt odd when she woke up with the strange feeling of another presence in the room.

“Azira…?” she sleepy murmured, and lit the bedside lamp.

Blood froze on her veins.

Standing by the crib, cooing the baby, (her baby) was another demon.

“Hastur”

He lifted his gaze at her, smiling. “Hello Crowley. I see you’ve been having fun lately”

His hand came down, and curled around her baby’s neck.

“No!”  
“Oh, so you care. You really have odd tastes…”

His fingers gripped the baby’s throat tighter, lifting her head a little bit. He wasn’t hurting her, jet. But at any second he would…

“Hastur! Listen to me! What do you want? What? No…!”

But she could see it. Hastur was smiling. He was enjoying this. He would watch her reaction and…”

Hastur didn’t know there was an angel in the next room, apparently.

The father of the baby girl jumped on him wings out, like a furious animal defending its nest. He clawed and held the demon and threw him backwards into the other room. Hastur landed on the couch, strong enough to break a human’s back. But Hastur howled, and jumped back over him.

Crowley run to her baby. She was crying, startled for the sudden movement, but she was fine. She was fine.  
There were two powerful creatures fighting to death in the living room. It sounded like some kind of bird and an ugly lizard. She took the baby and flew of the window.

Broken glasses fell not far from her. Something else too. Back in the house, bodies and stuff where trashed around.   
Se was suddenly aware of the situation.  
Her baby was safe, tugged away in her arms, but her lover was left behind.  
With…

She run to the closest door, were she knew lived a nosy old lady, and knocked desperately.  
She left the bundle at her feet. “pleaseitwillbejusonemoment!!”

And she run upstairs, wishing**** she was in time…  
She broke through the door, and jumped over Hastur.

Hastur was a duke of hell.   
Aziraphale was a fairly high rank, but not so high. Still, he was an angel, so it was quite a tight fight… which Hastur had advantage in.

Crowley was a very low rank, but she held Hastur, with everything she was. It was enough to hold him back one second. To make him clumsy… for Aziraphale to smite him, hand of holy glory in his forehead. Burning light came through Hastur’s every pore and his eyes, which were stuck on Crowley. And he was no more.

Aziraphale and Crowley stood there, alone, until Aziraphale collapsed.

Crowley could have let him die. Or end him. That would fix her problems: the only demon and angel who knew, who were after her would be dead. She may even get a commendation…  
But she couldn’t. It was Aziraphale.

…

When the police arrived, she convinced them with one glance that everything was fine, it was a false alarm. You see, the poor old lady downstairs, always complaining…and with a new baby…!

Aziraphale opened his eyes, weakly. The room was trashed, but a bit fixed up. He didn’t notice: he was too weak.  
He tried to call for Crowley, and she was right there.

“its alright angel. Just go back to rest.”  
His wings were broker and shredded, dislocated, but back into place and bandaged, like a fairly good part of the rest of him, but he could feel the danger was past. He looked at Crowley with his beautifull eyes half lidded.

Crowley was fine. She seemed back to her own self, before all this mess…

“…where is she?” his voice was a whisper.  
“just rest, dear. …”  
“please, is she fine?”  
“yes. Now, be nice and…”  
“Crowley, please, please, just this time…let me see her”

Crowley took a moment. Then she got up and went fetch the baby.  
Infants grow so fast. By now she had grown a bit bigger. She was in that fase when they open their eyes so much and glance to everything intensely.

Crowley sat in the floor, reclining in the couch, and lend the baby to Aziraphale.  
She contemplated his expression of true relief and happiness when weakly lifting one hand to caress her a bit.  
She held onto his finger and cooed.

Her huge blue orbs looked a bit like his, but not exactly. Crowley wondered if they would be like his when she grew up, or more like hers.  
She sighed. She felt a bit more at peace, now that danger had passed.

In the next days, she would nurse Aziraphale back to health.   
When he would be feeling a bit better, they would make a little trip to Tadfield. 

 

*At this point, rather than complain for being interrupted, she would make use from the newcomers.  
**Crowley would describe them like an eternity of pain and loss of breath and stupid words from the cop…  
***that is French for “…it is a … a beautiful little girl. Congratulations, maam” ‘Couse remember, it was in Paris.  
****The baby could not stay nameless, so Aziraphale had named her when Crowley was not around. Anyways, they could change it when she came back around and they decided to baptize her… ( oh, wait, …would she be safe around holy water?)  
…  
Just in case you wonder. That name was Belle Pomme.   
*****she didn’t pray. …or she didn’t register it. Demons don’t do that.

 

Epilogue

This story was lacking an ending for a long time. I just didn’t know what to do with it.  
Actually I though the second dream she had, when she kills the baby, could be a good ending.  
If that had been the case, there where two options:

First: She goes back to Aziraphale like nothing had happened, and suffers in silence. Aziraphale just suspects a bit, since she can barely hold his gaze.  
…eventually he would find out one way or another.

Second: Above knew all along. And they were punishing them: they send some of Crowley’s little dreams.  
They forced Aziraphale to watch Crowley suffering and doubting, and they forced him to watch the birth of the baby, and Crowley killing it. …then, they would let Aziraphale go, and both him and Crowley would pretend nothing had happened to make it easier for the other…

…I swear I would have wrote it like that. It was a strong story…  
But I was not in the mood for so much drama.  
Got enough in real life right now.  
Good luck.

**Author's Note:**

> I really should stop now  
> what do you think?


End file.
